A Lesson in Humanity
by pureimagination95
Summary: Jim Moriarty has been back for six months, yet there has yet to have been a single incident that can be led back to him. Ana is a young student with questionable intentions and she wants to get to a certain consulting detective. The best way she can think of?Through Dr. Watson of course!
1. Chapter 1

_**Hey Guys! So, this is my first Sherlock Fanfic! Please, go easy on me! This takes place six months after series 3. Enjoy!**_

Ana paced the floor a few more times, trying to work up the nerve to actually do it.

She picked up the notepad she had on her bed, all her notes reminding her exactly what to say scrolled across it in her curly script. She'd studied what she wanted to say over and over for a full week now. If she didn't force herself to do this now, she never would.

She turned and looked at herself in her vanity mirror.

"Come on, Ana. Grow a pair and just do it!" She told herself, nodding her head.

Before she had the chance to second guess herself she punched the number into her keypad of her mobile. She'd gotten it off of their official blog, so she was sure that she was going to be sent straight to voicemail. These two men were very busy, Ana was sure of it.

"Hello?" A male voice came from the other end of the line.

Ana froze, trying to remember everything she was supposed to say. Her panic lasted only a few seconds before she snapped herself out of it. She could do this. She composed herself, squared her shoulders and stared at herself in the mirror to be sure she remained put together.

"Hi there, my name is Ana Smith. With whom do I have the pleasure of speaking with?" She was very sure to make her voice sound as pleasant as possible.

"This is Dr. John Watson. What may I do for you, Ana? Do you have a case?"

Ana smiled to herself, surprised at her luck. She didn't have to tiptoe around the infamous Sherlock Holmes and his nefarious personality. "No, actually I'm calling to speak to you, Dr. Watson."

"Oh?"

"Yes sir. You see, I'm currently studying at St. Bart's. As part of one of my seminars, I have to write a paper on one of the successful alumni. I'm sure many of my classmates have already contacted you about this..."

"Actually, no. This is the first I've heard of this."

"Seriously? I find that incredibly hard to believe. I've been following you and Mr. Holmes' adventures-via your blog-for years now."

"Yeah, he and I have certainly been through alot. We're very busy men."

"Indeed, that you are. Which is why I'll totally understand if you turn down my request to meet up for lunch or something so I can interview you."

There was silence on the other end of the line for a beat, causing Ana's heart to sink. She could feel the 'no' hanging in the air-thus she had no choice but to hold her breath.

"You know what...sure. Why not?" Dr. Watson surprised her with his hesitant-yet positive-reply. "I'll have to speak with Sherlock and get back to you about a time that will be best for me. When is this project due?"

"I just was assigned it yesterday! I have over two months to complete it. So, there is no real rush. Thank you so much, Dr. Watson!"

"Don't mention it. We'll be in touch."

"Yes, sir! Have a wonderful day!"

"You too, Miss."

Ana heard the click and she knew that he had just hung up. Her smile was absolutely enormous as she followed in suit of the renown doctor, setting her mobile on the vanity table. _She had done it! _She was going to be meeting up with Dr. Watson for an interview sometime in the very near future.

Her teacher would be very pleased, indeed. When she had approached him about the crime-solving-duo he had been very skeptical. '_They are very difficult to get a hold of. Are you sure you're up to the challenge,' _he had said. He had underestimated her, to be sure. Nearly everyone around her seemed to. They all seemed to think she was made of porcelain, unable to do anything for herself. They never seemed to account for her drive, ambition, and focus.

_That's what happens in a male dominated world._ She thought to herself, looking in her closet for something to wear to their meeting. Even if they hadn't even scheduled it yet, she was not going to procrastinate any of it. She had to look absolutely perfect if she wanted to make a good impression. And if he hadn't contacted her within a week, she knew where they lived. She could leave notes on their doorstep, call again, maybe even knock on the door if she had to. She was getting this meeting if it killed her.

It was while she was shifting through her blazer's that she heard her phone buzzing. Her brow scrunched up in confusion-there was no way that Dr. Watson was already going to be getting back to her. They'd only hung up a few minutes ago. She sighed and walked out of her closet and picked her mobile up off the desk.

Her heart sped up when she read the name on the caller ID.

"Hello, I'm so sorry! I forgot to call you..." She said in a rush, praying that he would be in a good mood today.

"Don't make a habit of it." His voice returned. "Forgetfulness is not a trait that Sherlock nor Dr. Watson tolerate very well. Did you get the meeting?"

"Sure did." Ana said in a perky voice. "He said he'll be in touch with a time that's suitable for him. I don't know why you were worried about contacting them. It seemed pretty easy to me."

"Don't be as stupid as the rest of them." He reminded her. "You know that things are only going to get more difficult from here."

"I know!" She declared defensively. "You don't have to try to insult me by comparing me to other people. Believe it or not, I actually have the capability of tolerating normal people. Unlike you."

"Don't test me."

Ana's breath hitched in her throat at the sound of hysteria in his voice. She shouldn't be messing with his temper. She knew well what he was capable of-he had been the one to trick Sherlock into committing suicide after all. Or he had _thought_ he had, moreover.

"Mr. Moriarty, you wanted to know if I'd gotten the meeting with Dr. Watson and I have. Is there anything else? Or may I please go about my business. Believe it or not, I have more going on than your revenge plan."

"_You_ sought out _me_, remember?" He seethed into the phone, his anger clear.

"I do remember."

"Do you remember what you said to me?"

"Now you really are insulting my intelligence." Ana scoffed, brazenly hanging up on the man. How dare he act as if he had to remind her the reason why she was involved in this entire scheme of his! Of course she remembered what she'd told him. It was the same thing she had been saying to herself for years.

_I want to kill Sherlock Holmes._


	2. Chapter 2

_**Yo! So, I already have most of this story planned out and I can't wait to write it all out! I hope you guys enjoy!**_

It had been a little over a week since Ana had called Dr. Watson. She had tried her absolute hardest to be patient and understanding about the situation. It didn't stop her from emailing him after day three and calling again on day six. It also didn't stop Moriarty from breathing down her neck, texting her every few hours looking for an update. As if calling or texting him wasn't the first thing she was going to do when she'd finally heard back.

To be completely honest, she was getting anxious. What if Dr. Watson had forgotten? Or changed his mind? The least he could do is email back and politely explain that he is too busy.

Completely decided on emailing the army doctor and giving him a piece of her mind, Ana grabbed her computer and typed in the web address for Dr. Watson's blog. Once the page loaded, she searched for the contact page link, when her eye snagged on something else. The address to their flat.

She remembered Moriarty telling her that they lived together in a shabby flat on Baker street. He had actually tried to get her to break into the flat originally, while they were out visiting the morgue. She had refused entirely, shocked that a man who prided himself on cleverness would even propose such an obvious way. If you're desperate enough, then even the most obvious thing probably seemed like a good option.

Ana had been the one to convince Moriarty to lay low after he'd sent out the swarm of photos and videos. It got people paranoid and jumpy-his original intent from what she could see. But, if he really wanted to mess with the consulting detective's head, she'd told him to stay completely off the radar. Nothing would drive Sherlock more insane than that.

That proposition, tagged along with the string of words '_I want to kill Sherlock Holmes' _ was what got the sociopath's attention in the first place. There were some other factors to be sure, but those were unimportant.

She was doing all the footwork for her accomplice, especially since he couldn't risk leaving his flat. Once one of the homeless network laid their eyes on him, Sherlock would track him down. He needed someone to distract him. That's where Ana came in.

Except she wasn't doing a very good job, at the moment. She couldn't even get Dr. Watson to call her back!

_Screw it!_ She said to herself, grabbing her purse off of her counter and storming out of her flat. If Dr. Watson wouldn't contact her, she would just have to use a form of communication that was much more difficult to avoid. She was going to go knock on the door of 221B. She wasn't sure if this was the best course of action, but she couldn't stop herself or else she would begin to think this entire thing through and she needed to avoid rational thought right now.

She slipped on a pair of velvet black flats, grabbed her rain jacket, and ran out the door. She knew that she wasn't wearing the proper clothing-a pair of jeans and a plain black v-neck tshirt. It was incredibly casual and inappropriate for a meeting with the army doctor. Now wasn't the time to stop and change her clothes however. She hailed a cab and got in, telling the driver the address. The ride over was fairly quick, it only took about 10 minutes. She paid the man and thanked him for his services and climbed out of the backseat.

It was chilly and raining outside-nothing out of the usual for London. She pulled her hood up to shield herself from the water droplets that fell from a grey sky. Taking a deep breath, she approached 221B Baker St. and knocked on the door. She stood patiently at the door, watching people stare at her as they passed by on the street. They all looked as though they pitied her. Which made sense, since most of the people that went to this flat were there because they had some mystery to be solved. Or maybe it was because they all knew how Sherlock Holmes was and pitied the fact that she may have to put up with him. She'd be fine though, she had thick skin and Dr. Watson was going to be there to balance out Sherlock's unpleasantness.

The door swung open at such speed that it hit the inside wall and bounced off of it. "Do you not have ears?!" A deep, arrogant voice berated. Ana opened her mouth to respond, but the tall man had already turned his back and begun to walk back up the stairs. He left the door open behind him, which indicated to Ana that she was to follow him up. Once the door was shut soundly behind her, she heard his voice once again. "I yelled for you to come up twice. That's one more time that I should have to."

Ana pursed her lips. He and Moriarty were exactly alike.

They made it up to 221B, the door of which was already open-most likely left that way when Sherlock ran down the stairs to open it. She followed him into the flat, taking in the layout. A parlour that ran into a kitchen, a short hallway that led to a door that was halfway open-revealing a bedroom. If recalled correctly, and she always did, the stairs continued after stopping at the main area of the flat that most probably lead up to a second bedroom. Over all, the flat was a total mess. Random odds and ends laid all over the place and it looked like no one had properly cleaned the place in weeks.

"Sit down on the couch." He instructed, slammed the door shut behind him without looking at Ana at all.

"Hello! Yes, nice to meet you too! I'm Ana. I am well, thank you for asking!" She spat at him, crossing her arms across her chest.

"Petty civilities. I have no time for them." He grumbled, walking into the kitchen area.

Ana observed the man's attire, he was wearing black pajama pants, a matching black button up pajama top, and a purple robe. Ana narrowed her eyes at him, looking down at her watch. It was three in the afternoon.

"Sherlock Holmes, I presume?" She asked, not complying with his request and wandering around the apartment looking at all of this stuff. It may have been dirty, but his flat was certainly an interesting place.

"The one and only." He said from the other room. "MRS. HUDSON!"

His outcry caused Ana to jump, staring at him over her shoulder. When she looked at him she realized that he was openly staring at her with a look of concentration on his face. She smiled meekly at him, aware that he was deducing her.

"Take a seat. Mrs. Hudson will be down with some tea in a few minutes." He said in a voice that was a little less harsh than before. "Why are you doing that?"

"What?"

"They always sit down when I tell them to. They always stay put in that one part of the flat."

"Who?"

"_The clients! _Christ, for a student of medicine you are kind of thick."

Ana laughed at his comment and walked over to the couch and took a seat. "Your flat is interesting to look at." Sherlock's face twisted up into a confused expression. This was typically the part when people started to get flustered with him. "Besides, I'm not a client. If you did your deductions carefully enough you would know that."

"I know why you're here." He uttered in a pouty voice, turning around and walking further into the kitchen so that she could no longer see him. "You're that student that wants to interview John."

"Yes, I am."

"And if I'm correct, he told you that he'd get in touch with you with a date for your meeting."

"You are correct."

"John has not contacted you with a time yet."

"How would you possibly know that?"

"Why else would be here with a slightly desperate look in your eye?"

Ana smiled at his remark and shrugged, as if to say _maybe you're right_.

The door to 221B opened and a short elderly woman, wearing an apron stepped into the home carrying a tray with tea and cakes. The woman looked to be a very sweet kind of woman and she quickly set the tea down on the coffee table.

"How are you, dear?" She asked the girl on the couch, taken aback by her youth. Usually the people sitting on that couch were in their mid-twenties or older. This girl looked no older than nineteen.

"Well, ma'am. Thank you."

"Good bye, Mrs. Hudson!" Sherlock interrupted their little exchange, sitting on the couch next to Ana. "I'll call you later to clean up a little bit."

"Not your housekeeper, darling." She responded, rolling her eyes affectionately at the man. Ana didn't understand how she put up with it. If he had said that to her she would've slapped him. Once the old woman was gone, Ana poured herself a cuppa and took a sip.

"Now, may I please see Dr. Watson?"

"How old are you?" Sherlock asked out of no where.

"Seventeen."

"A seventeen year old med student, isn't that impressive." The lack of impression in his voice told otherwise.

"It is what it is." She replied with a polite smile. "Dr. Watson?"

"He's not here." Sherlock replied, continuing to stare over her as if the new piece of information that she'd supplied him with was a cause for him to deduce her again.

"When will he be in?"

"I don't know, ask his wife." He said with a smirk, picking up one of the cakes and nibbling at it. From what Moriarty had told her about the detective, he rarely ate much because he said it distracted a part of his mind from his work. The fact that he was eating in front of her now meant that he'd just concluded that she wasn't a threat. If she had been, he would've wanted to focus on everything she said and every move she made.

She smiled and took another sip of her tea. Perfect.

"Very funny, but seriously when will he be in?"

"That wasn't a joke." Sherlock said rolling his eyes. Ana's face scrunched up in confusion.

"Wait...Dr. Watson is married?"

"Well, someone hasn't done their research." He said, pouring himself a cuppa and adding cream and sugar to his. "Got married last year, there was an attempted murder at his wedding, John and I stopped it, it was a very dull affair."

Anger swelled up in Ana's chest, but she did not let it show on the outside.

"Well, I am sorry for wasting your time then Mr. Holmes." Ana said, setting her teacup down on the tray and standing up. "I'll leave you to your experimenting."

She had just opened the door to the flat when Sherlock's voice stopped her.

"How'd you know I was experimenting?"

She smiled at him, amused at how much he'd underestimated her. "Science of Deduction."

"You've read my website?"

"Tobacco ash can be facinating to some."

"I took that down years ago."

"Seventeen year old Med student."

"Isn't that impressive." This time his voice did hold a bit of awe.

"Good day, Mr. Holmes." She said as she stepped out of the flat. She walked down the stairs and out onto the street, her mind buzzing with what had just happened.


	3. Chapter 3

_**Hey guys! Here I am, coming at you with yet another chapter! Some of you are curious about Ana's intentions here and her motives. Not to worry, it will all be revealed in due time. I hope you enjoy!**_

She was more than angry. She was fuming.

Ana stormed into the worn down apartment building, not pausing to say hello to the landlady. She just stood at the foot of the stairs, smoking her cigarette, looking startled and a little tired. None the less, this building wasn't in the best part of town and she'd gotten accustomed to not even asking when angry people came bursting in and out of the building. It was just safer to not get involved.

Ana stomped up the stairs, not pausing when she made it to the top floor. Luckily, Moriarty had left his door unlocked and so she opened the door and stormed into the flat. He'd fixed it up quite a bit since he'd first moved in. From the outside, it looked like it was going to be a hell hole; much like all the other flats in the building. However, Moriarty would die before he'd shack up in a sub-par flat. Ana could only guess how much money he'd poured into the flat since moving in. However, at the current moment, she couldn't really care less.

Jim Moriarty was sitting at the couch, sipping a cup of tea, with a worn out copy of _The Prince _unfolded on his lap. As usual, he was dressed up in a crisp black suit. He didn't look startled in the least by Ana's rather sudden appearance into his home, but then again it took quite a bit to startle this man.

"Good day, Ana. How're you doing?" He greeted her in a sing song voice, feigning complete and total innocence.

"Save it!" She snapped, kicking the door shut behind her. Moriarty smirked to himself, closing his book and setting his tea down on the table next to him. All it did was frustrate Ana even more to see that he seemed to have been expecting her. "Why didn't you tell me that John had moved out of 221B?!"

"I didn't think it was important." He mused, folding his hands patiently in his lap.

"Don't you dare!" She yelled, wanting to smack that smug look off of his face. "I am not other people! I am not some idiot! That excuse may work on your stupid hired hands, but it won't work on me! I know that everything you do, you do for a reason! You wanted me in that flat, one way or another. I refused to break in for you, so now instead you leave out an important piece of information so that I make my way over there! Why? Why are you so determined to get me in that flat?!"

"I'm not." He replied, tilting his head to the side like a puppy. Ana gritted her teeth at his composure. "I don't particularly care if you do go to their flat or not, but my intention is not to get you into 221B. If I wanted to go to 221B, then I could. I've been there before and it wouldn't take much to get me in there again."

"Then, what're you doing?" Ana asked in a much calmer voice than before, coming down from her anger.

"I'm making you interesting." He admitted, wiggling his eyebrows in a seductive fashion. "If you want to get to Sherlock, you need to pique his interest. I trust that you've done so?"

"Well...I suppose..." She said, taking a seat on the chair across from him. Moriarty picked up a teacup and poured some from the little kettle he had placed on a tray. He handed it to Ana, waiting for her to elaborate. "He didn't seem impressed when I first got there but by the time I left he seemed more fascinated."

"That's good." Moriarty praised, picking up his own cuppa and sipping at it. "We still have quite a way to go, but we're making progress."

Ana nodded in return, she opened her mouth to respond when there came a knock at the door.

"Ana, come here." Moriarty uttered in a low voice. Ana scrunched her brow at him, unsure what he meant. "Come sit on my lap."

"Blaine..." A voice came from the other side of the door.

"Now!"

Ana complied, a look of complete confusion on her face. As she felt his leg under her butt, she couldn't help but note that this was the closest she'd ever been to Moriarty. He usually kept his distance, but right now they were in closer contact than anyone had been with Ana in a couple years.

He looked up at her his dark eyes, sparkling with mischief. "Do you trust me?"

"No." She admitted with a scoff.

"Hm, smart girl." He said with a smile, grabbing her face and smashing their mouths together.

Ana let out a surprised cry. Whatever it was that she thought he was planning on doing, it wasn't that. She tried to pull away, but he had a firm grip on the back of her head. Ana froze, trying to figure out what exactly was happening as Moriarty's mouth begin to move beneath her's.

"Kiss me back, right now." He whispered, a hint of hostility clear in his voice. Her head was spinning, racing even faster than it normally did. She was fighting to figure out what his motives were with kissing her out of the blue like this. Their relationship had never been like this before and she was much, much younger than him.

There was a sound of a door opening and suddenly, Moriarty released Ana. She jumped at the noise, clutching her chest trying to catch her breath.

"Oh! Jesus! I'm so sorry, Blaine! I didn't realize you were home...I-I I mean, I knocked and you didn't answer...so I kind of just assumed you weren't in...but, obviously you are..." A female voice came from the door. Ana turned her head and stared at the woman, her brain in a daze. The woman looked to be that same age as Moriarty, with long blonde hair that was braided back.

"It's fine, what can I do for you?" Moriarty replied, placing a possessive hand on Ana's knee. Suddenly, things started clicking for Ana and she leaned in closer to Moriarty, laid an arm over his shoulders, and began to stroke his hair.

"They accidentally dropped your package off at my place...I'm so sorry for intruding on you two! I honestly assumed you weren't home at the moment!" The woman gushed, her cheeks bright pink. Her hands were fumbling with the package in her hands.

"Oh, don't worry about it!" Ana mused, with a cordial smile. "Blaine and I were getting carried away, anyways."

"I guess that's what happens when you've got such a beautiful young woman on your lap." Moriarty said, scrunching his nose up in an adorable manner.

"Oh, stop it!" She returned. She couldn't believe she was kissing and flirting with Jim Moriarty right now, even if it was for a ruse.

He laughed, gazing at her with a smile that appeared genuine. If Ana wasn't trying to stay in character, she would have balked at his performance. He was so good, she could see an emotion emanating from his eyes that she had never seen from him before; love.

Ana smiled a little bigger than before, leaning down and planting a kiss on his mouth.

"Is this the girlfriend that you told me about?" The woman asked with a fake smile on her face. To be honest, the woman looked like she had just been hit by a bus.

"Oh, I'm so sorry! How rude of me! This is Shane, my girlfriend." Moriarty declared, giving my knee a squeeze. "Shane, this is Rachel. She lives right next door."

"Oh, nice to meet you Rachel!" Ana said with a smile.

"Like wise, Blaine has told me all about you." She said, nervously playing with the loose tape on the ends of the package.

"Oh, has he?" Ana looked down at Moriarty, the proud smile on her face masking the annoyance. "Only good things, I hope?"

"Of course." Rachel said, setting the package down on the table next to the chair that they were sharing. "I'm just gonna drop this here and go."

"Are you sure? I could make you a cup of tea." Ana asked, fully committed to the role she was playing. Ana suddenly felt a sting in her side, as Moriarty pinched her in warning. Ana ignored it and continued to stare at the woman with, what she hoped looked like, a friendly smile.

"No, I wouldn't want to intrude." Rachel said, backing away from the scene before her. "And I have things I have to do but, thank you. I hope to see you at my next party, Blaine?"

"Wouldn't miss it!" He said, waving at her with a smile that was very similar to Ana's.

Once the door was shut, Ana jumped up from Moriarty's lap.

_"__Blaine?_ Really?" She laughed, shaking her head. He laughed in return, high off of his lies.

"I couldn't put _James Moriarty_ down when I applied for this flat, now could I? Do you realize how quick it would be until Mycroft found that?"

"And you told her I was your girlfriend?"

"Well, I meant for the girlfriend to remain completely fictional. She was getting that look in her eye. Like I'm going to get with someone as stupid as she is! I can't stand morons."

"And the kiss?"

"I thought it would finally drive the point home."

Ana took a deep breath and shook her head. "Well, at least I like the name."

"Shane?"

"Yeah, I think it suits me quite well." She said. "If I hadn't already introduced myself as Ana I would use it with Dr. Watson and Sherlock."

"It was a better idea to stick with your real name. The less you have to lie, the better. You are going to be hanging around Sherlock Holmes, after all."

"Why do you hate him? We both know why I do, but I never asked you."

"I don't hate him." Moriarty said simply, picking his book back up. "He and I are two sides of the same coin. I need him."

"Then why are you trying to kill him?"

He looked up at her, the look on his face like it should be obvious.

"He and I are are like Batman and Joker. He keeps my life interesting. I need to try to kill him because it gives me a challenge."

Ana nodded her head and turned to walk out of the flat.

"Oh, and Ana?" Ana heard his voice and she turned to look at him. "That kiss didn't mean anything."

"Don't flatter yourself, _Blaine_." She said with a smile as walked out the door, Moriarty's chuckle the last thing she heard as she shut the door behind her.

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	4. Chapter 4

_**Hey guys! Sorry it took so long to update, things are starting to get a little crazy around the office. (By office, I mean my bedroom...) But still, I hope you guys continue to enjoy!**_

She felt like she should be nervous, but for whatever reason she wasn't. It was like the past two years of her life had been sucked up inside a tornado, being swirled and thrown around violently and just now the vortex had decided to dissipate-scattering all of her emotions across the ground. She had yet to decide if this was a good thing or not.

She stared at herself emotionlessly in the mirror as she linked the chain to a gold necklace around her throat. She could objectively say that she was a fairly attractive young woman with long dark locks that curled to her mid back. She picked up one of these ringlets and began to pin them up into a bun at the back of her head. She made eye contact with herself, her golden brown eyes not conveying any of the thoughts that were typically racing through her head. That was a skill that she'd picked up from Moriarty. He told her that it was imperative for her to never let her true intentions show while she was around Sherlock and John Watson, otherwise they'd pick up on it before she even sat down at the table. She had put very little make-up on, only natural tones as to appear the very essence of innocence. Her face was an interesting one, with high cheekbones and a tiny nose. Once her hair was properly pinned up she stood from her seat in front of her vanity mirror. She was wearing a knee-length sky-blue sheath dress with a white scarf, pearl earrings, and white heels. The outfit made her look not only five years older, but very regal, and trustworthy. She wasn't exactly slim when it came to her figure, but she had learned to love her curves after all the years she had spent despising them. Finally, she forced a polite smile onto her face; inspecting it in the mirror to be sure it looked genuine, and then she turned away from the mirror no longer interested in observing herself.

She picked up her white clutch on her way out the door, never letting herself waver too long in her thoughts. That was the issue that she'd always had-her mind was constantly moving a hundred miles an hour, processing information at a speed that most people called inhuman. This was a skill that few people in her acquaintance possessed. The only people that she had ever met that were similar to her were Moriarty and Sherlock. However, unlike the both of them, Ana had been raised to love people. She enjoyed the company of others, despite how much slower they reached their conclusions. She had learned patience at a very young age, since her mother was like most other people and being as her father had split on them before she was even born, it was all she ever knew.

As she hailed herself a cab, her mobile rang inside of her tiny purse. She dug it out as she climbed in, quickly telling the cabbie the address of the restaurant before she picked up her phone.

"Yes, Blaine?" She figured she use his alias while she was out in public.

"Are you on your way to the restaurant?" Moriarty's voice harshly cut into the speaker, something must have upset him.

"Why, yes. As a matter of fact, I am." Ana replied pleasantly, watching the sights of London roll passed her window.

"Well, I have it on good authority that Sherlock and Watson are already there!" He sang in his suddenly overly-calm voice. Ana smiled at it, the man may have been certifiable but he was a genius.

"And that's a problem, why?" She returned, "If they get there first then they will have a confidence about them. They will feel like they've got the upper hand over me. Isn't a false sense of security what we're going for here?"

There was silence on the other end of the line for a beat. Ana was already smiling triumphantly while Moriarty processed her response.

"Don't mess this up," was all she heard before the line went dead.

She chuckled as she hung up and put her phone back into her clutch. She looked up and saw the cabbie looking at her in the rear view mirror.

"Business dinner. The boss is nervous." She told him with a smile. His eyes quickly jetted away from her and back onto the road, embarrassed that she'd caught him staring.

The cab pull to the side of the road and slowed to a stop. She quickly paid the man his money and jumped out of the car. She stared at the restaurant in astonishment. This wasn't what she'd expected at all and she suddenly felt incredibly overdressed. The sign above the door read "Tapas Brindisa Soho Restaurant" and despite the pretty lights that hung in the window, the customers inside looked to be in casual clothing. Ana took a deep breath and walked inside, knowing that she was in too deep to go back now.

The restaurant was rather small, with a few tables scattered across the room. For the most part the place was empty, aside from a small group of friends at the bar and an old married couple that were sat against the wall. Ana looked to her left and found the duo sitting together at the table in front of the window.

"May I help you, miss?" A man asked, walking up to her with an apron wrapped around his waist.

"Yes, I am here to have dinner with a Sherlock Holmes and John Watson." She replied with a smile.

"Right here." Sherlock's baritone voice called from his seat. "It's alright, she's with us."

He waved her over to the table and she complied, stepping up towards the table. She had met Sherlock previously, when she had stormed into his flat last week however, she had yet to actually meet Dr. Watson. As he rose to meet her, she noticed that he was rather short. She was practically the same height as him, of course she was tall for a woman. He had peppered blonde and grey hair and a kind face. Ana shook his hand with a friendly smile.

"It is so nice to finally meet you in person, Dr. Watson!" Ana gushed, not entirely acting. Ever since he and Sherlock's career had taken off, he was a celebrity on the St. Bart's campus. "You are bloody brilliant, if you don't mind me saying so."

"Why, thank you Ms. Smith." He said with a slight blush about his cheeks. "And please, it's John."

"Sherlock." Ana nodded at the tall skinny detective.

"We've already met." Sherlock stated, as if to remind Ana.

"I remember, quite well. You were still in your bedclothes at three in the afternoon." She recalled, holding her hand out for Sherlock to shake. "A girl hardly forgets such an event."

Ana smirked as she watched Sherlock's adam's apple bob in his throat.

_I see Moriarty was correct about how female attraction makes him uncomfortable._

Before she had the chance to sit down, John already had his hands on the chair to pull it out for her. She smiled before allowing him to push her in.

"You are both such gentlemen!" She complimented, opening her small clutch and pulled her phone out. "I'll be using my phone as a recorder, I hope that's okay."

"No problem at all." John shrugged as Ana hit the record button.

"Before we begin, may I ask why exactly Sherlock is with us..." Ana asked politely. "Not that I am not happy for his company, of course!"

"Of course." Sherlock uttered in a voice low enough that she was sure he thought she couldn't hear him. She gazed at him, tearing him apart in her mind-deducing him as he was her.

"Sherlock." John shot him a warning.

"Apologies!" Sherlock said in a much more civil tone. "You just left such an interesting first impression, I couldn't miss out on another encounter." Ana's smile dropped from her eyes momentarily at the look on Sherlock's face.

He was definitely suspicious of her.

_Good, that'll make this all the more fun._

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	5. Chapter 5

_**Hello my lovely readers! I'm having so much fun writing this story! I hope you guys are equally enjoying reading it. The story is really going to start picking up from here! Enjoy!**_

"Alright, well I think that's all." Ana said, hitting the record button on her phone so that it was no longer recording their conversation.

Despite the various times that Sherlock had interrupted her questions or one of John's stories, she had honestly gotten a pretty good interview from the army doctor. He seemed overjoyed to be sharing his knowledge and experience with someone who was equally passionate about the medical field.

"What type of doctor do you wish to be, Ana?" John asked, with a friendly smile.

"I wish to be a mortician, actually." Ana admitted with a slight blush creeping up to her cheeks. "The human body both dead and alive just fascinates me."

"Probably more the former more than the latter." Sherlock uttered, yet another backhanded comment from the consulting detective. At this point, Ana didn't even react to the remarks anymore. She near expected them at this point. For such a brilliant man, he could be rather predictable.

"Yes, Sherlock. As a matter of fact you are correct. Otherwise, I would want to be a doctor and not a mortician." The conviction in her voice made Sherlock blink in surprise. He honestly hadn't expected her to respond to him. "Besides, it appears to me that you and I have that in common. You do so get your kicks off of heartlessly solving murder cases. Probably keeping you occupied from some sort of addiction. The nicotine patch on your fore arm would suggest smoking but, no. That's much too boring an addiction for you. I'd say it's something far more hardcore, a drug of some sort. Am I getting warmer?"

Sherlock's eyes seemed to be searing through her head, as if he was trying to literally read her thoughts. Unfortunately, that was a skill that even Sherlock could not ever possess.

"And why don't we talk about you, Ms. Smith." Sherlock's voice was sharp with malice. Ana had definitely hit a nerve with the detective and it made her smile. "So _eager_ to get into John's good graces, one should really have to wonder why. All these years and this is the first time a St. Bart's student has approached John about this so-called paper. One has to question the actual existence of such an assignment."

"You know who we should introduce Ana to?" John piped in, an apologetic look on his face.

"Please," Sherlock scoffed. "Molly doesn't need a shadow following her around, slowing her down."

"Having a second hand in the lab may actually speed Molly up, Sherlock. Ana could help her with her actual hospital work so that she'd get it done before you'd need use for her."

"It doesn't matter the circumstances, Molly _always_ is willing to help me."

"_Us._" John reminded him with an eye-roll. Sherlock had always been quite the peacock. "And I'm not saying that she doesn't, or wouldn't. All I'm saying is that it might actually be quite advantageous for Molly if we proposed she pick up Ana as an intern."

Sherlock shut his mouth and just glared at John, trying to find a reason for him to refuse. However, it wasn't in his nature to turn away anything in his life that was in anyway different and interesting from that of the norm. How could he turn away this brilliant, mysterious, and slightly threatening girl; no matter how on the fence he was on his opinion of her?

His shifted his gaze back onto the girl, searching for any blatant signs that she could be dangerous to Molly. He didn't mind putting himself in the company of the girl, but did he really trust her enough to allow her near Molly. All he could deduce from her was what he'd seen every other time. An intelligent, snarky, albeit charming young woman who was extremely interested in the life of John Watson. However, something about her irked him. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but something about her seemed slightly off. Yet, he knew that his deduction skills were never wrong. The only time they had been was the first time he'd met Jim Moriarty in the morgue, however Sherlock always discarded that instance because he wasn't paying close enough attention then. He was busy and too wrapped up in himself-never paying Molly's life enough attention at that point. Ever since Moriarty he never deduced anyone so off handedly again. He would deduce them at least three times over to be sure he never missed anything. Yet, here he was deducing this girl repeatedly and he never found anything that wasn't there before. It irked him to no end and was probably the main reason why he didn't like her.

"Meet us at St. Bart's morgue tomorrow. I'll..." Sherlock noticed the sharp look John had just shot him. "_We_ will introduce you to my favorite mortician."

Ana's smile flourished and she nodded, excitement in her eyes. She knew that Sherlock would deduce it down to excitement over receiving an impromptu internship with one of the world's greatest morticians, at least Ana deduced that to be so. There was no way Sherlock would put up with anything less than the best. What he didn't know is that the excitement was over the fact that things were falling into place for her plan.

_One step closer everytime we meet._

"Sherlock..." John started, always having to berate Sherlock's lack of social courtesy.

"Are you kidding? She's definitely not busy, John." Sherlock scoffed. "Look at her, you really think she'd pass this up."

"That would be absolutely terrific!" Ana burst, giving John's arm a reassuring squeeze. "I cannot thank you enough for such a wonderful opportunity! I swear, I did not expect this when I asked for an interview!"

"Anything for a St. Bart's student, right John?" Sherlock's voice was tight, and filled with annoyance. Ana fought down a giggle, nothing seemed to amuse her more than annoying Sherlock Holmes.

"Yes. Yes, of course." John stammered, looking at Sherlock with a perplexed expression. He wasn't sure why Sherlock was acting like this. He was the one that kept reminding him to call Ana back, the one who insisted on coming with him. John warned him over and over that he probably wouldn't enjoy the company of the young girl, being as he rarely enjoyed the company of anyone. But after the run-in he'd had with her in his flat, he was persistent to tag along without explanation. "Do you need us to call you a cab?"

"Not to worry, my father has a town car arranged to pick me up." She replied with a smile.

"You don't have a father." Sherlock automatically pounced, relishing in finally finding a break in the girl's story.

He'd deduced _daddy issues_ off the girl within seconds of meeting her the first time. After speaking with her it was obvious to him that the girl had never even met her father. There was this sense of abandonment that was wrapped around her. What worried Sherlock was that over the past week he sometimes caught himself relating to her sense of loneliness, as if there was no one in the world that was out there rooting for her. He'd felt that way before he met John, before he'd realized how he'd underestimated Molly, before he'd faked his death and saw how many people actually did care for him. In a little way he saw himself in Ana and that worried him, since he could tell that the girl was hiding something.

After noticing the look of utter offense and confusion on both John and Ana's faces Sherlock rolled his eyes and decided to elaborate.

"Obviously you have a biological father. I just meant he's not in the picture, nor has he been for sometime. If I'm correct he's never really been in the picture at all, correct? Most likely it was from a situation in which your mother got herself tangled in a teen pregnancy-"

_Smack!_

The sound rang loud through the air of the restaurant. The smack had caused everyone to stop eating and stare at the group near the window. Sherlock looked stunned as he gazed at Ana, who had stood up before walloping Sherlock in the face a second time on the other cheek. John's mouth hung open in shock.

"How _dare _you!" Ana growled at him. "You are easily the most uncouth, callous, disrespectful, arrogant man that I have ever met in my entire life. I have taken a lot of shit from you, Sherlock Holmes and I have just swallowed my tongue and let your sly little backhanded comments bounce off. But you just stepped too far. Don't you _ever _mention my mother again, you got that?!"

There were pieces of her bun that had fallen into her face, sticking to her cheeks, and her face had gone red with anger. Her composure had more than just slipped, it had crash landed like a meteor out of space. Ana fought to reel herself back in, knowing that she'd just broken one of Moriarty's rules of how to act around Sherlock Holmes, and he was not going to like it one bit.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, pulling herself back together before opening them again.

"I'll see you at the morgue around three. It was lovely meeting you Dr. Watson." She said in a surprisingly calm tone, in contrast to her little outburst. "Mr. Holmes."

With that she walked out of the restaurant, dreading her next encounter with Moriarty.

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	6. Chapter 6

_**So, things are probably going to be this spread out from now on because I am just getting more and more busy as the summer goes on. Once school starts again, who knows! Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy!**_

Sherlock was smiling. It was a rather rare occurrence to see Sherlock Holmes smiling in such a sweet manner, mainly because he did so when he thought no one was looking.

Molly had just arrived at the morgue, ready to let Sherlock and John in. She remembered they'd mentioned introducing her to a potential intern to help her out around the lab, so she wore her favorite jumper under her long white lab coat. Sherlock noted it as she fought with her scarf and her bag to find her key card. He could never figure out why seeing Molly struggling with such simple tasks made him smile. With most, this behavior drove him mad. With Molly, this behavior used to drive him mad. Now, he found absolutely adorable.

He cringed at the word _adorable _as it crossed his mind. _Thank God no one can read my thoughts_, he thought to himself. He wasn't sure when his feelings toward Molly had shifted but by the time he'd realized it, he was already too deep in to turn around. He did he best to mask his regard for her, but he feared it was becoming more and more apparent the longer he spent time with her.

What was worse was the protective nature that was beginning to kick in. He'd felt with John and Mrs. Hudson, even with Lestrad. Now he was feeling it with Molly only, for whatever reason, his regard for her seemed to be a nagging part of his brain almost twenty-four seven. He seemed to be constantly wondering about her safety; he had even woken up from nightmares in which Moriarty kidnapped or harmed Molly in some way. Moriarty must have gotten word, when he returned, that Sherlock was more fond of Molly than he realized. His imagination would turn out scenes of Molly being held at gun-point, strapped to a bomb, or the worse of them all-Molly being one of Moriarty's henchmen the entire time. It was only a matter of time before she was put into a real-life line of danger.

Not that he'd pull the brooding, tragic, love-story-card and force Molly to stay away from him. He needed her far too much for that. However, no one could find out just how much he cared for Molly Hooper and in what type of manner.

Unfortunately, John Watson had gotten so that he could read Sherlock Holmes like a book. He just shook his head at him, too worried about other affairs to bother Sherlock about his crush on his mortician.

"Sherlock, could I talk to you for a moment, before Ana gets here?" John asked politely, glancing at Molly's inquisical expression with a nervous smile.

Sherlock rolled his eyes at his best friend, already sure of what John was about to tell him.

"I'll be nice!" He spat with annoyance.

"You said that last time and where did that get you?" John returned, folding his arms across his chest. "You should never have brought up her parents."

"She deserved it."

"Deserved it!"

"She provoked me!"

"Who provoked who, Sherlock!" John snapped, shaking his head at the tall dark genius. "You were making comments at the girl all evening!"

"I don't trust her, John!"

"Woah, woah, woah!" Molly suddenly interjected, taken aback from this sudden flood of information. The two men paused their conversation to look down at the short, blonde, woman who was looking up at them with more confidence than either of them were used to. "You don't trust the girl that you're trying to get me to hire?!"

"Molly..."

"Sherlock! You know I trust your judgement more than anyone else I've ever met!" Molly berated, looking as though she were about to knock the detective upside the head. "Why would you send me an intern that you don't like, nor trust?"

"Keep your friends close, Molly..." He replied, praying that his cheeks hadn't betrayed him with a blush at Molly's declaration of trust in Sherlock's skills.

"Enemies closer." Molly finished, nodding her head as she processed this information. "I don't like it, but I'll help." Sherlock smiled at her willingness to help him. She never let him down, Molly Hooper. "So, why don't you trust her?"

Sherlock pursed his lips at her question. He didn't want to answer, because if there was anyone he wanted to impress it was her.

"He can't find anything wrong." John laughed. "That's the issue."

"I don't understand..." Molly admitted, looking at Sherlock with a head tilt.

"I...just have a bad feeling about her..." Sherlock tried to explain, knowing how ridiculous he probably sounded.

"And you can't figure out why." Molly said with a nod, her face looking very focused. Sherlock tried to fight down the smile on his face, but he knew at least the corners of his mouth had turned up because so had hers. Molly had finally figured Sherlock out. "I get it, pretty frustrating stuff."

Ana's town car pulled up just then. She had asked Moriarty if he could rent her one after she'd fabricated that lie to keep up her facade. He wasn't too happy about it, but he had her a car and driver by the next day. What he had been much more giddy about was the fact that she'd slapped Sherlock in the face. Twice.

"_The git deserved it. He deserves everything he gets." Moriarty uttered, an amused glint in his eye._

"_Preach." Ana laughed, relieved that he wasn't mad at what she'd done._

"_If he didn't find you interesting before, he certainly does now." He laughed along with Ana, an ease about him that she wasn't used to seeing. _

"_I think he may be suspicious of me..."_

"_He has such a big ego that even when he thinks he's not underestimating people, he still is." He shook his head, taking another sip of his bourbon. Ana smirked, realizing that Moriarty was starting to get intoxicated. "Just win every one of his loved ones over and it'll drive him even more mad. They'll all love you, meanwhile he is treated like he's paranoid."_

"_You do love that method, don't you?" Ana said, taking a sip of the wine that Moriarty had put in her hand when she'd arrived at his flat. "Isolate, then strike."_

"_It works everytime. That and blackmail."_

_The two clinked their glasses together and sipped their drinks together; giddy off of their plotting and alcohol consumption._

"Is that her?" Molly asked, her eyes widening at the expensive car and driver that was escorting her out of her vehicle. "You didn't tell me she had _money_."

"I..." Sherlock shook his head in disbelief. "I was sure that she didn't..."

"Looks like your deductions were wrong." John said with a smile, glad that Sherlock had been wrong about Ana so far. It wasn't that he disliked his friend or wanted to see him fail, so much as the amusement that it brought him to watch Sherlock squirm under the thought of being wrong. "Does this mean she does have a father after-all?"

"A benefactor, more like." Sherlock snapped, unwilling to entertain the idea that he had deduced her incorrectly. He'd done it so thoroughly and so often that there was no way that he could be wrong about her.

"Good afternoon, gentlemen!" Ana greeted with a friendly smile, acting as if her and Sherlock's collision had never happened. "Your mornings have all been splendid I hope!"

"Why, yes!" John responded with a smile, nudging Sherlock in the side. The taller man glared down at his short friend, before uttering a rather pathetic greeting.

"You must be Molly!" Ana said to the short, motherly looking, mortician. Molly smiled and nodded, shaking the girl's hand with a humble enthusiasm. "I am so excited to get a tour of the morgue from you! You've got to be one of the greatest mortician's in London, if you've got Sherlock Holmes banging down your door for help."

"Why don't you do a report on her too." Sherlock muttered under his breath, but loud enough for Ana to hear. Ana always seemed to pick up on his whispered slights.

"Are we behaving ourselves today, Sherlock?" Ana responded without missing a beat. "How's your face? Not sore I hope."

The three stunned people stared in awe as Ana winked at Sherlock and turned to walk into the hospital.

"I like her." Molly admitted with a smile as she followed her new intern into her place of work.

"You cannot be serious." Sherlock said in disbelief.

"She's got spunk." She elaborated. "And she doesn't take shit from you. I like her."

Sherlock rolled his eyes as everyone walked into the hospital together. Why could no one else see through her well thought out and executed disguise? There was no way this girl was honestly who she said she was. He didn't know how or why, but these were questions he was going to find the answers to-no matter the cost. He did plot out a long-term relationship with a woman and get engaged to said woman, just to break into her bosses office. He was not afraid to go to extremes once again to get what he wanted, and he wanted to know the truth about Ana Smith.

"Are you coming?" John asked from the hospital entrance, standing alone as the two women walked on ahead chatting away.

_Sure, go ahead and act like some civilized teen-genius. I'll find out the truth._ Sherlock thought to himself, not admitting that he was jealous of the way Ana instantly connected with Molly.

When Sherlock didn't answer him, John walked the rest of the way out of the hospital and approached him.

"What is worrying you more?" John asked his best friend out of the blue. "That she's not who she says she is or that she is exactly who she says she is?" There was no escaping John's powerful gaze, boring a hole right into him. He couldn't lie to this man, not like he could with all others, because he knew him too well.

Sherlock had no choice but to look away and climb the steps of St. Bart's hospital without saying a word to John because he could not lie to him and his pride was too important to tell the truth.

It was in this brooding haze that Sherlock walked into the Morgue, with John on his tail. That mood disintegrated the moment he stepped into the room. It was like cold water had just been thrown on him.

The two women were standing huddled together, staring down at one of the examination tables._Shoulders hunched forward, legs stiff, hand gripping onto Ana's forearm._ He could literally feel the tension and fear coming off of Molly as she stood there. Without a word, he walked passed them to see what they were staring at that seemed to freak Molly out so quickly.

A kite.

There was a white kite sitting on the examination table with a key tied to the string. The words _Did You Miss Me? _Were written across the wings in blood. Whose blood he wasn't too sure of, but there was one thing that he was certain of.

"The game, John!" He practically sang in excitement. "The game is on!"

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